A New Turn
by Megaraa
Summary: When Artie's bullying get's too much, his parents decide that the best thing is to send him to private school - Dalton. Little does he know that someone will catch his eye. Blartie romance, Rated T because I don't think it'll be M worthy.
1. Chapter 1

Artie gulped nervously, his eyes roaming the halls of what was soon to become his new school. The place wasn't particularly wheelchair friendly, but it was the best that his parents could do. It was the nearest private school, with a no bullying policy that didn't have some extortionate price that they couldn't afford. Artie didn't really know what he wanted to do. He was sick of being shoved down the stairs in his chair at McKinley, but he didn't exactly want to leave his friends and make the daunting, high ceilinged, fancily decorated corridors he was now being pushed through 'his' school.

"Okay, sweetie," cooed the rather patronising secretary from beside him, the click of her heels echoing off of the walls eerily, "Why don't you wait in the common room while me and your parents have a little chat?" Artie rolled his eyes and nodded slightly, not that he had much choice anyway. His Mom pushed him into another large room, and he waved them off lightly adjusting his chair, and tugging it up to the head of an empty table. Pulling out his phone, Artie scrolled through his inbox, and began replying to one of the texts that Sam had sent him. His friend had recently had a Star Wars marathon (without him, much to Artie's dismay), and was sending him random questions, as if to test the glasses clad teen's nerd-knowledge. _'Han totally shot first, man_', Artie typed in, pressing the send button with a chuckle when a hand fell on his shoulder, causing him to flinch slightly in surprise.

"Hey!" came a cheerful voice. A dark haired boy stepped around and slid onto the bench beside the table that Artie had pulled up by. "You new?" he asked, sliding two takeaway coffee cups onto the table.

Artie paused for a moment, not sure of how to respond. "Not yet," he decided on, eyeing the two beverages with a confused look. He knew people loved coffee, but _that_ much?

"Not yet?" the other teen questioned quirking an eyebrow. He chuckled a little, and noted the look that Artie was giving him. "Guess I can't give you an introductory coffee then," the kid grinned. He then laughed at Artie's further confused expression before pushing the cup forward towards him. "Consider it encouragement instead. I'm Wes, by the way," he greeted, "I hope you like latte's."

The gesture was almost alien to Artie, and he looked at the hot drink for a few moments before collecting himself and diverting his gaze back up to Wes. "Oh, uh, thanks man," Artie smiled a little, taking the coffee and cradling it in his hands, having dropped his phone onto his lap. "Artie Abrams," he introduced himself, letting go of the cup and offering his hand out to shake. Wes met the gesture with a firm handshake, and Artie nodded in approval – he liked to gain an impression via handshakes. It was just something he did.

"So," Wes smiled, sipping his coffee, "Why aren't you the new kid yet?"

Another voice butted in; joining the conversation casually, "He's not the new kid yet?" A huff followed this, and two more teens in blazers slid onto the bench opposite Wes. "But I still need to shift that title!" A pale, dark haired boy groaned, pushing what looked like a sketchbook onto the table.

"I'm sure he'll convert soon enough," grinned the boy beside him, whose hair had been glued back in place with an insane amount of gel, "We're irresistible." He chuckled, and offered Artie a warm smile, cradling his own coffee cup.

Wes rolled his eyes, and waved a hand towards the two additions to the table, "Artie, meet Nick and Blaine." Artie had only just caught the eye roll, having barely looked away from Blaine from the moment the teen had spoken, and he gulped, pulling his eyes from him to study the grains of the wooden table as he composed himself, before looking up again.

" 'Sup," Artie smiled feebly, feeling a lot more out of his depth now that there were three Dalton kids around him.

"So," Nick folded his arms across his book, picking at the corner subconsciously, "Where you from?"

"Lima? William McKinley High."

Blaine grinned again, "Neat, I know the area pretty well."

Artie blinked, before realising he was supposed to respond. He had no idea what had gotten into him. "Oh? That's cool."

Wes cleared his throat, causing the three other boys to look over at him. "I believe my question was interrupted," he pulled an unimpressed face, and shot it over at Nick and Blaine, before looking to Artie. "How come you're not an addition to the ranks here yet?" Wes repeated.

"Uhm," Artie tapped his fingertips against the paper cup nervously, "Well, I'm still kind of deciding," he admitted. There wasn't really much decision left, it was either transfer to Dalton or stay at McKinley, and he was sure as hell that his over protective Mother wasn't about to let him stay at the public school.

Blaine cocked an eyebrow, and tilted his head in a questioning look, a coy smile still present. "Why do you need to decide?" he asked, though quickly following it with "If you don't mind my asking," politely.

Shrugging, Artie lifted the cup to his lips and took a swig of the hot drink. "Transferring is kind of a big deal, yo," he replied, a slight smile on his face as he studied the other boy's expression. "Though I think it's a no-brainer, seeing as there are dorms available on the ground floor, and nobody around here is about to shove me and my chair down a staircase."

The three boys looked like they- did they flinch? A horrified expression was now present on Nick's face, Wes was shaking his head with a disgusted look, and Blaine was staring at him with wide eyes. "Someone actually did that?" he managed to force out after a few seconds of silence. Blaine shook his head lightly, a sad look in his eyes, as one of his hands darted out to rest atop Artie's in a comforting gesture. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled, brushing his thumb gently across the skin.

Gulping slightly, Artie offered them a shrug and an empty smile, glancing at his hand a few times. "That's why I'm probably transferring," he justified, ignoring the buzzing sound his phone was making from his lap – probably Sam's reply.

Heels could suddenly be heard, and Blaine's hand retracted from Artie's (much to his unexpected disappointment). "Arth- oh!" the receptionist was back, with a huge fake smile, rimmed with red lipstick, "I'd just come to fetch you while your Mom and Dad finish up in the office," she announced, looking at the three of the Dalton students sat near him. "Popular I see!" the woman squeaked happily, "How marvellous. Well, if you're ready, we should get going, sweetie."

Artie wanted to sink his head into his hands, but instead he quickly ran a hand through his hair, and smiled at his new found friends, moving his hands to the wheels of his chair.

"See you soon, blazer clad, Artie," winked Nick, sitting upright. He glanced down at his art book and cursed silently, having realised the damage he'd done the corner of it's cover.

Wes nodded in approval, seeming a rather regal character, "Enjoy your latte."

Artie's gaze flickered over to Blaine, whose sad expression had been replaced with an extraordinary smile. "If I don't see you back here soon, I'll search you out in Lima," he joked, cradling his coffee cup.

With a chuckle, Artie smiled at the three of them, and let out a sigh. He went to move his chair, but the receptionist latched onto the handles, and tugged him backwards, taking the movements out of his control."Oh!" she shrieked annoyingly, pushing the chair back, "Don't forget your coffee!" With an unamused expression, and a shared comical look between him and Wes, Artie took the cup before being guided out of the room and to the headmaster's office, where he found his parents shaking hands with the guy on the other side of the desk, a large amount of paperwork piled in front of them.

They turned to him, and his Mother, Julie, clapped her hands together in an excited manner. "It's done, honey!" she beamed, "Welcome to your future school!"

* * *

"I just... don't.. un...der... _staaand_," Tina blubbed, chest heaving up and down with her heavy intake of air. Mike's arms were wrapped around her, causing her to cry into his chest slightly. "We could've m-made it work.. D-done _some_...thing."

Artie sighed, wanting to go over and hug the girl, but instead staying put where he was – stuck in his chair in the middle of the choir room, in front of nearly a dozen shocked faces. "My Ma and Pa decided that it's the best thing to do," he reasoned, his eyes trailing over different members of the club he'd belonged to for a year and a half. Finn was looking dumbfounded, obviously having had no idea of the bullying that Artie had been subjected to. Rachel looked like she couldn't decide whether it was good that she'd have less competition for solos, or bad because the club had one less strong voice. Brittany looked a bit lost, as per usual, and strangely, Santana looked a little disappointed.

Seeing some movement, Artie's gaze flitted to the where it originated. Puck had got up and was making his way over to him, with a sad smile. The two of them had gotten quite close since he'd started tutoring him a few weeks ago. They'd always had a few things in common, but never attempted to create a friendship until it happened by accident. The best thing about it was that Noah seemed to scare off some of the bullies, seeing as he himself was known as one around the school. Unfortunately, he only scared them off when the two of them were next to one another, and seeing as Artie was the year below Noah, it didn't happen very often. He slapped a hand on Artie's shoulder, smiling down at him for a second before turning to all of the people seated in front of them. "So, my man Abrams is moving on," Puck said in a loud voice, "Of course, it's a shame, but we should all _stop crying_;" he gave a poignant look to Tina before continuing, "and be happy for the dude. I mean, it just sucks to be him, 'cause we're going to own the Garblers at sectionals."

At the end of Glee club after a few hugs and handshakes from the members, including the 'Partie handshake' as him and Noah called it, Artie waved off a considerably less-teary Tina, and it left just him and Sam in the choir room. The blond smiled at him, scooping up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he walked over. "C'mon," he said, taking hold of the back of Artie's chair and aiding him in leaving the room. As they made their way down the near empty corridor, Sam let out a little sigh, obviously deliberating. "Do you have to go?" he asked, leaning over slightly, "I mean... it sucks you're going."

Artie laughed lightly, raising his arm and twisting his hand in a gesture slightly, "All the papers are done, and they're expecting me Monday, Sam." He shrugged his shoulders slightly, "It sucks, but it's gotta' happen, yo." His best friend sighed once more, and nodded his head – not that Artie could see it.

"Right," Sam confirmed, letting go of the chair to manoeuvre round and open the door for him. "It just sucks," he repeated, looking a little sad. Artie laughed, pushing his chair through the door, before turning slightly to look at Sam.

"Relax man," he said, folding his hands in his lap, and picking at one of the yellow fingerless gloves he wore, "We can still hang." The other smiled back at him, and they raised hands to bump fists together, as he nodded. "I'll see ya' round, Sam." His friend waved, walking down the accessibility ramp and off to the car park, out of sight, leaving Artie in front of the school building. He back his chair up a little, looking at the doors, and the letters fixed into the brick wall. "Bye, McKinley," Artie muttered, studying the corridor from through the window one last time, before turning away, to make his way home. It was time to move on.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **_So I didn't proof read because I just wanted to get this up, but 11 months after originally writing this, I've finally added to it. I do actually have a story plan, so hopefully I can keep this going, and I very much appreciate the interest. Sorry it took so long, and I hope some of you are still around._

_When I started writing this, Sebastian wasn't even part of the show, so I'm tempted to add him in later on, to add some kind of storyline. Let me know if you think I should!_

* * *

"Don't worry, you'll do just fine," came Mr Abrams' voice from behind him, the tapping and crunching of his shoes on the pavement the only indication of his presence. Artie let out a deep sigh, unsure of whether he agreed or not. Sure, he was going to an all male no bullying policy school, but that was exactly it. There was no escape from the uniform he'd been forced into, and now Artie only had his glasses to hide behind. He was used to using his eccentric style as a distraction, and it was only now that he could see that. Before, it'd just been a style thing. Now he realised the truth behind it.

Smoothing his forefinger and thumb over the red piping of his new blazer, he remained silent as they made their way into the school and by the office. It was pretty lucky how well everything had worked out. Transferring mid-term had never been a wise idea, considering it was difficult to catch up on all the lessons, but most of the teachers had agreed to do extra tutoring to help him catch up in the first couple of weeks. It was only the dorms that were really on the second floor, but that wasn't too much of a problem either, considering he hadn't intended to board at Dalton. However the fact that his Mother had made him pack the night before told him otherwise. It was only when they were in the Principal's office, and it came up that he was really certain that the stuff wasn't just for his locker. After all, you didn't need too many clothes when you were constantly in uniform.

"Now, Artie," Principal Barton began, sliding his fingertips together, and resting his hand in front of him, "We come to the topic of boarding." Artie couldn't help but be put on edge; the idea setting him into a nervous haze. He relied on his parents so much for the little things, like on those days that he just didn't want to hoist himself in and out of his chair, and they helped him do so instead. The fact that he would lose such comforts didn't sit right with him. "We only have a couple of students on the ground floor who are without a roommate," the man explained, focusing in on him. It was obvious to Artie that his parents' gazes were locked on him too, probably waiting for a reaction that he didn't intend to give. After all, he suspected that they wanted him to board, not only to prevent them driving him here every day, but also to make him more independent. "But one in particular put his name forward when we asked for those who were willing to have a new roommate."

Meeting the gaze of the Principal with a raised eyebrow, Artie opened his mouth to speak when the door handle mechanism clicked, announcing its use and making him turn his head. "Hey," came a familiar, cheerful voice, and his eyes fell upon Blaine Anderson, the boy who had been kind to him in the week previous. The list of kind acts from this kid seemed to be piling up against him already, and it made the strange nervous feeling that he induced in him increase slightly.

"Meet your new roommate, Mr Anderson," said the Principal, who looked to the boy and was met with warm hazel eyes.

"We've already met."

* * *

There were few people that got away with pushing Artie's wheelchair. The list was basically his family, Sam and Puck, but he was already finding that Blaine was a name to add to it. Having gone over the rest of the rules and his timetable, and also set up his things in his room, Artie's parents had driven away, seemingly with no doubts at all. The sound of gravel, which was already becoming increasingly familiar, churned beneath Artie's wheelchair as Blaine pushed them back inside of their dormitory and towards their room.

"When I heard there was a new student who needed a room on the ground floor, I knew it was you," Blaine said cheerfully, letting go of Artie's chair to open their door. He held it, watching with a smile as the boy pushed himself in and nodded a thank you, so as not to interrupt. "I hope you're okay with us rooming," he then said with a nervous laugh, making Artie's smile warm considerably as he turned his chair and looked up at the other. "I just figured you might be happier if you were with a more familiar face?" Blaine seemed a little nervous at his proposition, as if Artie was going to outright shoot him down and complain about how terrible rooming with Blaine was sure to be.

Of course, he didn't, and Artie nodded, offering Blaine a grin. "Thanks, man," he replied, folding his hands in his lap by habit, "I'm glad you did." And boy was he. Ever since they'd connected gazes, Artie's mind kept on wandering back to the boy with gelled hair. He was just so nice, charismatic and seemed like someone that he genuinely wanted to get to know – also someone who genuinely seemed like they wanted to get to know him. It wasn't something that happened too often without being tainted by the sympathy card. But with Blaine, it wasn't.

* * *

It was weird, the first week at Dalton. A couple of his classes had to be relocated for him, as the history lessons were generally on the second floor, and the old building ensure that Artie couldn't get up those stairs. Nobody really seemed to mind, except a kid called Rupert, but according to Nick, who was overly happy that he was no longer the new kid, he was always pretty moody anyways.

Everything was so different here, from the style of teaching down to the way people spent their lunchtimes. Artie had already fell into the habit of joining a couple of Blaine's friends for lunch in the common room instead of the cafeteria, considering it was a lot more quiet. He was just happy that they accepted him so readily into their group of friends. He didn't expect the same thing from McKinley students, and the fact was, Artie was a little different to everyone else. Jon, (or Beat as everyone called him) was probably the only one with a lot of similar interests to him, being the guy who always seemed to be found beatboxing to himself (note the nickname), or engaging in semi-geeky conversations about Star Trek. Still, Artie had found that music was something that kept Blaine's friendship group woven tightly together. He'd heard brief mentions of something called the Warblers, too, even though he didn't have much clue what they meant by it.

"Hey Artie," said Jeff through a mouthful of apple, flicking his head slightly to move the tendrils of blonde hair that just about went into his vision, "You sing, right?" Artie, having been staring over at a bookshelf, snapped back to reality, and dragged his eyes over to Jeff, finding everyone's eyes settled on him. Even Thad's, whose were usually trained on Blaine in the least subtle way he could achieve, considering he thought nobody knew about his overbearing crush.

"Uh," Artie replied, blinking and letting his eyes roam over the rest of them. Nick and Wes seemed to be hanging on whatever his next words might be. Blaine however, smiled encouragingly, knowing the answer, and nodding his head. Artie quirked an eyebrow before looking back to Jeff and answering; "Yeah, I was in McKinley's glee club."

"New Directions," Blaine chirped up, looking around at the other six people who sat around the circular table. There were usually more of them, but the football coach had ordered an extra practice this lunch, with some games coming up. "Our competition at sectionals."

Artie's eyes widened a little, and he looked to Blaine. It took him a second to choose which question to reply with, before going for; "You guys have a glee club?" instead of the dumb 'you're competing against them?' option.

Wes nodded enthusiastically, and David leant forward, the other half to his double act. The two of them were nowhere near as bad as Nick and Jeff when it came to being weirdly in sync, but there was no doubt they still were. "You should audition," David said with a smile, looking to Wes.

"According to Blaine, there's no doubt you'll get in," Wes said matter-of-factly, turning everyone's gaze to the smaller boy.

Looking mildly embarrassed, Blaine shrugged, and looked up at the glasses clad wheelchair user with a flustered smile. "Shower," he offered as an explanation, and Artie huffed in amusement. He hadn't realised that he sung that loudly when he sat under the stream of water.

* * *

_Ouch, man._ was the text he received from Puckerman shortly after the Warblers' verdict on his audition. He'd decided to be upfront about the fact he was joining the opposition to his former allies, and had even sung _One Love (People Get Ready)_, a song he was well practiced in, after performing it with Noah a few weeks previous. He chuckled a little at the words, knowing the Puck wasn't really bothered – after all, he wasn't about to be denied the privilege of singing on a stage just because he'd transferred.

Of course, they'd let him into the club without hesitation, and Artie rolled in, unsure of why the audition process was so necessary when he'd basically be told they'd let him in either way as he pulled up next to one of the sofa's. Some of the places with access issues around the school had added small ramps where needed, and it made Artie feel rather happy about it, even if he couldn't go to some of his fast becoming friends' rooms to hang out.

"This is so great," Beat murmured, edging closer to the end of the sofa so he could mutter to Artie as Wes and David went off on a tangent, having finished welcoming 'Mr Abrams' to the group. "We've never had someone who can really rap in the group before," he said, glancing to Artie with a grin, clearly excited about the possibility. Apparently Blaine attempted it a few times, and he wasn't bad, but it just wasn't the same as having someone who was really in it. And Artie appreciated hip-hop to a similar level that Blaine loved his pop music. Luckily, he liked that too, or they'd have a few disagreements about how Blaine was constantly blaring, Katy Perry, Pink or some other female pop singer.

"With sectionals on the horizon," said Wes firmly, "We want to mix things up a little bit, considering we always present a similar performance style in many ways." A few people around the room murmured their agreements, though quite a few frowned too, thus including Thad, the only quiet council member. To be fair, he couldn't often get a word in edgeways, considering Wes and David could talk for hours if left to their own devices.

Before anyone could protest, David interjected, "With Arth- Artie's diverse skills on our side, I think we really have the edge this year," he said, offering a firm smile. David was so used to using people's full names, even if they reportedly didn't want it (Artie had caught Jeff pulling faces every time he was called Jeffrey), but he was making an effort not to call him Arthur.

Around the room, the mood uplifted, and people nodded and smiled in agreement. It had come to his attention from Nick's chats with him in Physics that afternoon, that the Warblers had a very particular style. They always performed in their uniforms, with Blaine singing lead, and pop-ballads on their side. None of them doubted the efficiency of this, considering it gave them an image, and they were very good at what they did, but quite a few of them thought that they needed something new, and apparently a vocalist who could give Blaine a run for his money, and also rap, was exactly that.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So, I'm probably going to introduce Sebastian later on, thank you for the feedback! Excuse any mistakes, I wrote this kind of late, and I'm too lazy to read through it.**

* * *

Another week went by at Dalton, and Artie still hadn't come to a conclusion on the place. It was nice, ornate, contained a lot nicer people than McKinley seemed to, but just seemed overly weird to him still. Everyone felt a little too nice, like as soon as he turned his back, he was under threat. "That's how you feel when you get bullied," Blaine countered, lying back on his bed with legs crossed over at the ankles, and his novel set flat on his thighs. "Just to point out, Artie," he said, grinning over at him, "You talk out loud when you type."

Artie pressed his cell's screen into his stomach, and chewed his lip as a blush blossomed lightly over his cheeks, wondering why he was writing out a note on it again. Sometimes it just helped to write these things down, even if he deleted them straight after most of the time. The only ones he kept in his phone were the motivational ones, which were usually quotes. "Sorry," Artie muttered quietly, hitting the button on his phone to save the note, and scrolling. There were an awful lot of sci-fi ones, and '_Mercy is the mark of a great man_' which he knew from _Firefly_ was probably his favourite, considering he often felt like blowing his top when he got angry. Even if following that, the character who said the words jabbed a sword further into someone twice and pronounced himself '_all right_'.

"It's not a problem," Blaine said, his ever glistening smile beaming over from the other side of the room. There was something about the boy he'd been sharing with for the past two weeks that Artie couldn't put his finger on. He was obviously amazing at what he did, which was performing, and somehow, he was humble too, not minding that the warblers were arranging to have Artie take one of his coveted solos; not so much as uttering a word of discontent. Really, the brunette couldn't have been luckier to find a friend in him. "Is there anything I can do?"

A light frown graced Artie's features, and he looked over at Blaine a little more quizzically from where he sat by the desk, having not wanted to move onto his bed yet. "What do you mean?" he questioned, turning his chair to face the other properly with two adjustments of the wheels.

Blaine shrugged, picking up his book and carefully sliding the bookmark into the groove between the pages before closing it and placing it on his bedside table. Artie had noticed that the curly-headed brunette (who only really let his curls flow out of school hours) was very precise in all that he did, that it was some kind of compulsive art he attended to. It was cute. Not that that word had ever come to mind when Artie was thinking about his roommate. "Well," Blaine started, oblivious to Artie's watchful eye as he drew his legs up beneath himself and looked over, "I just mean that I can probably try to help you feel less wary of everybody. After all, I transferred here because of bullying too."

The two of them had grown quite close over the time Artie had spent at Dalton, and spent a lot of time together. Having expected Blaine to be popular and therefore absent from their room all the time, Artie had been pleasantly surprised to find that he preferred to stay in more than attend little gatherings that the Dalton students seemed to have. "It's fine, Blaine," Artie said, shaking his head lightly, "I'll get over it eventually. Everyone's great here."

"I hope you don't think I'm about to turn into some kind of monster when you turn your back," Blaine said jokingly, knowing that the two of them had got to the point already that Artie saw him as a close friend.

"You have no idea," Artie grinned, pushing his chair over to his bed. The only problem was, he didn't either.

* * *

Blaine hadn't had a roommate for a while, but it was proving easy to adjust with Artie. Michael Yarn had been his last, and very brief fellow occupant, who had attended Dalton for a total of 4 weeks, before he'd moved away again. To be fair, the kid had told him tthat him and his family moved around a lot for his Father's job, but that didn't exactly make him think that he'd be gone that quickly. Not after all the effort his Mother had taken to get him settled in.

Still, things were definitely looking up. Blaine really liked Artie, because even though he had his own troubles – Blaine had caught him getting frustrated at things a couple of times, and they usually revolved around the ability to reach things – he was a really genuine guy. It was clear to Blaine that Artie was having a lot of difficulty with the uniform; his usual clothing very individual and bold. He admired that, having never really wanted to make himself stand out more than necessary. Blaine supposed that was why Dalton was so perfect for him. The Warblers were a group of talented individuals who allowed him to shine his brightest, but at the same time, he still fit snugly between them, blending in his blazer and being the perfect team member. He didn't stand out too much. That had been his problem at his last school.

Shaking his head free of the thoughts, Blaine gripped at his cafeteria coffee, yawning. Artie still didn't seem used to the early morning routine that Dalton had, but considering it was a Sunday, he didn't have the heart to wake him up. They served breakfast until a bit later at the weekends, anyway. He took a seat at the usual table, which was weirdly empty, usually already half full with the early risers – Wes, David, Thad and Jeff. Trent was an early riser too, but he spent so long getting ready that Blaine refused to classify him as one.

Huffing in slight confusion, Blaine simply took a gulp of the hot liquid, sighing happily at the feeling as it slid down his throat and woke him up that little bit. Lately, he couldn't seem to keep himself focused, which was weird, considering he was usually very good at being that and driven. He closed his eyes, running a fingertip along the edge of the plastic lid that was pressed onto his takeaway cup. "I wonder what a duet would be like," Blaine muttered, away with the fairies.

"What song?"

Blaine's eyes snapped open and he sat up straight to see Jeff staring right at him with an alarmingly large grin. To his right sat David and Wes, and on his left was Nick, who looked like he was making an extreme effort to appear like he didn't hate the fact that his roommate had dragged him out of bed for breakfast so early _again_.

"Who with, Blaine?" chipped in David, who leant forward slightly, looking weirdly intent.

Furrowing his brow in confusion, Blaine blinked, and looked from face to face, analysing them individually. "Where did you guys come from?" he asked, swearing that he'd near blinked and they'd appeared in front of him.

Nick huffed, rubbing his jaw in an attempt not to yawn, "Jeff was being sneaky and wa-" A hand darted in front of the dark haired boy's mouth, and he ducked his head backwards, pushing Jeff's hand out of the way. Nick sent his best friend a glare, who widened his eyes with an expectant look that even Blaine could recognise as 'shut the hell up', before he folded his arms, and slid down onto the table in defeat.

"Jeff was what?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow, and looking between all of them again, his hands surrounding the cup a little tighter. He felt nervous for some reason.

"Stop avoiding our questions, Anderson," Wes quickly covered up, quirking his own eyebrow in a challenging manner.

Completely oblivious to whatever conspiracy it was that his friends were concocting, Blaine blinked, "Uh, something with Artie," he said, recalling where his mind had been wandering off to. The rate that the smiles grew on the people's faces opposite him was rather alarming, and he continued to look even more confused. "Why?"

They didn't answer.

* * *

"It has been decided that Artie and Blaine are to duet at sectionals," declared Thad, looking triumphant in the fact that he was the one announcing something. Blaine had to take a second to process things. It had been two days since his strange encounter in the dining halls with some of his fellow Warblers, and he'd never expected his random thought to amount to anything. Eyes darting over to Artie, Blaine couldn't help but grin at the shocked expression his roommate was exhibiting.

"Really?" Artie asked, glancing over at Blaine for a second and offering him a shocked smile, before looking back to the council. He'd been informed that everything was put to a jury, right down to the dance moves that they performed, but this had been sprung on them randomly. He hadn't even auditioned for his solo song yet.

David nodded, and beamed over at them. "It's up to you guys to choose a song."

* * *

It took less than an hour in their room later that night before Blaine was borderline pulling his hair out. "How are we supposed to choose a song anyway?" he asked, pacing the room, his hair dishevelled from the amount of times he'd thrust his fingers through it.

"Just cool it, man," Artie attempted to calm him for the umpteenth time, watching on from his bed. Their notepad of ideas was still blank, because Blaine had dragged him straight back from practice in a state, feeling ridiculously pressured about the fact that he was choosing it without any deliberation from his teammates.

"I can't!" Blaine said, his voice a higher pitch than intended as he turned to the other, looking rather exasperated. "This is a lot of pressure, Artie," he informed him, "Because not only are they trusting us to perform a song well, but they're absolutely certain that we can choose a good song for our voices that isn't too similar to what we've done before, or isn't inap-"

"_Blaine_," his voice was a lot more firm this time and Blaine paused to look properly at Artie, "It'll be fine. You just need to calm down." He offered his roommate a smile, and patted the spot next to him on the bed. Hesitantly, Blaine moved to sit beside him, pressing his back against the wall too. "If they've given us this to do, they obviously know that we can do it," Artie pointed out, turning his head to smile at the other.

Blaine let out a sigh, and nodded, "You're right. Sorry for short circuiting." He huffed in amusement at himself, before looking at the list, "Let's do this properly."

Artie wouldn't admit that he held his breath when the other boy moved to rest his head on his shoulder.


End file.
